


The Warrior King

by toriangeli



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 11:45:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toriangeli/pseuds/toriangeli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill for the Hobbit kink meme, which requested Thranduil being a good king.  Set during the book.  Thranduil hears of strange dwarves threatening and frightening his people and does what must be done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Warrior King

**Author's Note:**

> _Original prompt: Something realistic on Thranduil's rule? Because he's been around since the first age, he's seen his own king killed by dwarves due to arguments over jewellery, and he's the only elven ruler to keep the enemy at bay entirely without one of the rings. He clearly needs some credit._
> 
> _Preferably not pairing Thranduil or Legolas with anyone, but all dwarf ships are good._

"They came on us unawares. They made no announcement, gave no warning, no explanation. My lord, they are persistent, and we barely escape them. What must we do?"

Thranduil watched the fear flicker like flame kindled in the eyes of two utterly civilian elves before him. These two gentle souls were neither warriors nor hunters. He had known them since their births, watched them grow, watched them shake as their kin marched to war in Mordor, watched them flee with their possessions on their backs from a Shadow growing in the south of their own homeland. The Elvenking did not move, and his face was carefully impassive, causing a spark of anxiety to join the fear in their eyes. But he considered carefully the courage of two who had never held a weapon, venturing the darkened and twisted forest with merriment and laughter only to be accosted, and a black anger began to simmer in his heart.

At last he spoke.

"Dwarves, you say?"

"Indeed, my lord."

The revelry of the elves was a part of their very cultural identity, and celebrating in the face of hardship kept their people alive and motivated. Thranduil had learned how to be a king in Mordor, seven years of siege under a dark sky in a desolate land, where day and night were barely different. As few as he had led back from that war, he would have lost many more to despair if he had not learned the importance of morale. Joy and song in the face of a grief he had been unable to afford to entertain, in spite of a sickness of heart that had nearly crippled him for many years after. Still he had stood and comforted his people, still he had encouraged them to hold fast to joy and hope because it was a stronger defense than any armor.

And these upstart dwarves thought to disrupt it. Not if he had anything to say about it.

"Have your revelry again tonight, and I will join you."

Relief flooded the eyes of the two subjects before him, drowning the fire of fear in their eyes. It was as if a father had agreed to face a bully at the side of his children. One stooped and grasped the Elvenking's hand, kissing it.

"Thank you, my lord."


End file.
